


Champagne, Cocaine, Gasoline

by deLoonii



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jack is a fucker, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7801432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deLoonii/pseuds/deLoonii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys stared at the brunet for a long moment, eyes glassy and dull from whatever may have been coursing through him. He shifted up and crawled into Tim’s lap, cupping Tim’s cheeks in his hands. He leaned close and examined the subtle differences between the two twins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, heed the tags on this one.  
> God, this was a blast to write but at the same time, I have given myself feels. I'll warn now, Rhys is still high during this so it can be a little dub-con. Have fun with this sin (I know I did) :D

Tim had seen the kid at least two dozen times in the past month. Whether he was shuffling into Jack’s office nervously or coming out with his throat marked and clothing askew, he was at the club all the time now. Jack had mentioned his name once or twice in passing (“Yeah, Rhysie, good customer… _very_ loyal.”). Tim’s heart broke every time he saw the kid wander out of his twin’s office. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on, but the lost, glassy look in the lanky man’s eyes was gut-wrenchingly sad.

It was a pretty normal evening for the club. People were dancing, drinks were being bought out front and drugs were being bought in the back. Tim used to hate the fact the club was a front for Jack’s drug dealing, emphasis on the _used to_. Now, he was just apathetic toward it all. Except for Rhys. Tim couldn’t bring himself to be apathetic about the lanky chestnut haired man.

“Tim-Tam!” Jack singsonged as he sauntered out toward the bar where his brother was working.

He looked up at his twin, taking in his slightly disheveled clothing and shit eat grin. He wasn’t even attempting to hide the fact he had just gotten laid. Tim resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the other slung his arm around the man’s shoulders. Jack was always obnoxiously jovial after he had sex.

“How’s business going, kitten? We booming?” He asked, ruffling Tim’s hair affectionately.

They were always booming. The whole city came to Hyperion, for drugs or drinks, it didn’t matter. “Yeah, good night as always.”

Jack laughed, clapping his hand against Tim’s shoulder as he moved around the bar. He poured himself a Scotch and leaned against the edge of the back counter. The moments younger twin looked at the man surveying the club, stomach dropping. Tim, by principle was a good man, but his brother…

“Aw, what’s with the long face, Timmy?” Jack asked once he noticed his brother frowning. “You look like someone said your cookies suck.”

“Sorry Jack…” Tim said automatically, offering his brother a less than genuine smile. “Just thinking is all.”

Jack snorted and shook his head at the other. “Cut that shit out, I can’t have that handsome mug of yours making my customer’s sad.”

Tim pushed his brother away in a somewhat playful manner. “Yeah, yeah… I’m gonna take a break. You want me to send Moxxi up here?”

Jack waved the other’s question off, taking place at the bar and beginning to fill drink orders for the wait staff. Tim sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he headed into the back office/lounge. His shoulders sagged as soon as he was safely inside the room. The facade he had to keep up was far more draining than he ever let on. He headed toward the one of the comfortable couches, not noticing the young chestnut haired man splayed out there.

Tim flopped down, earning a helpless little whine from the other body on the couch.

“Oh shit!” Tim exclaimed, noticing that he wasn’t alone on the couch. “Sorry, it’s so dark in here I thought I was alone and…” His eyes widened when he realized that person beside him was Rhys.

The lanky addict sat up slightly, using Tim’s knee for bracing. “Jack?”

“W-what? Oh, um, no… I’m Tim,” The bartender explained, "I'm his brother."

Rhys stared at the brunet for a long moment, eyes glassy and dull from whatever may have been coursing through him. He shifted up and crawled into Tim’s lap, cupping Tim’s cheeks in his hands. He leaned close and examined the subtle differences between the two twins. Tim tried not to fidget too much as the young man inspected him. Rhys ran his thumbs along the small smattering of freckles along the bridge of Tim’s nose.

“Not Jack…” Rhys seemed to realize, “you sound just like him.”

Tim laughed, jostling Rhys slightly in his lap. “Yeah, identical twins tend to be like that.”

Rhys laughed as well, shoulders shaking with giggles. He was still holding onto Tim’s face, hands cool against the bartender’s flushed cheeks. A lump was building in Tim's throat the longer he let Rhys sit on him. He was playing a very dangerous game: Rhys was one of Jack’s customers (probably more than that, if Tim was being completely honest) and that meant the kid was off limits. Even as the warning sirens blared in his mind, Tim let his hands settle at the hollows of Rhys’ hips.

“You have a really nice laugh.” Rhys purred, touching his forehead to Tim’s own. “And your skin… It’s so soft.”

Tim smiled awkwardly and chuckled slightly, “Thank you?”

It was Rhys’ turn to laugh at Tim’s remark. His hands slid down the bartender’s cheeks to gently stroke down the sides of his neck, teasing the hairs growing at the nape. Tim tipped his head back to chase those fingers in his hair.

Taking the action as invitation, Rhys bent forward and began snuggling his face against the other’s flush skin. Tim gasped, clutching Rhys’ hips instinctively when he felt the lanky man’s lips against his neck. The chestnut haired man moved his hands down Tim’s collar to paw clumsily at his shirt.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Rhys slurred against the pulse point on Tim’s neck.

Throwing out the last vestige of his self-preservation, Tim rucked Rhys’ shirt up to run his hands along the pale expanse of his torso. His fingers skirted up Rhys’ stomach, mapping out each scar and marking on his skin. The pads of his thumbs brushed over the young man’s nipples, eliciting a surprised and excited moan from him. _Interesting…_ Tim thought, repeating the action again to see if he would get the same results. Rhys whined unabashedly and rocked his hips down.

“Please, I want… I - please!” Rhys sobbed, practically clawing at Tim’s t-shirt.

Tim took pity on the young man, stripping them both of their shirts. His eyes trailed down to the two twin scars and his hands moved to press his hands against the puckered flesh. Rhys looked down and bit his lip in worry. Bending forward, the bartender kissed the tips of the scars and then trailed his lips up to kiss Rhys’ slightly slacked mouth. It wasn’t until Tim felt something wet hit his cheeks did the brunet pull back. Tears were streaming freely from Rhys’ eyes, tracking down his flush cheeks to pool at his chin and fall onto Tim’s collarbone.

“Oh shit! Rhys, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Tim panicked, cupping the other’s jaw in an attempt to appease him somewhat.

“N-nothing… You’re just so,” Rhys hiccuped, “so gentle and nice…”

Tim’s heart twisted in agony at the very idea that someone could hurt the poor boy on his lap (much less his own twin). He reached up and pet the young addict’s hair, attempting to sooth him. The tears dried after a moment, leaving them both sitting in silence. Rhys was the first to move, resting his head against Tim’s shoulder and snuggling his face against his neck. Tim curled his fingers through Rhys’ hair in a small gesture of comfort.

“C-can we… Can we keep going?” Rhys asked after a few moments of silence.

Tim looked at him, surprised by the request. His dick twitched in renewed interest, “Um… I mean, yes, if you want to.”

Rhys nodded enthusiastically and pressed a few quick kisses to Tim’s lips. Tim returned the kisses, moving his hands down to the divots of Rhys’ hips. His fingers tugged at the fabric of the young man’s pants, pulling them lower on the man’s lithe legs. Rhys pressed his hand to the front of Tim’s tight jeans, grasping his half-mast cock through the fabric. His fingers were slightly delayed from the still present drugs in his system but they popped the button of the bartender’s jeans. Unlike Jack, Tim preferred to wear underwear, so the young man was stuck pawing at the front of his boxers.

Tim tried not laugh, moving his hip up so he could shuffle his pants and boxers down to free his cock from the straining material. Rhys gasped, eyes widening at the sight of Tim’s turgid flesh. The bartender blushed, flitting his eyes away in embarrassment. Rhys curled a loose fist around the other’s cock, giving it an experimental pump. The air punched out of Tim’s lungs, his hands clutching the young man’s bony hips.

“It’s so…” Rhys stuttered, running his hand greedily along Tim’s cock.

Tim was aware he was slightly more, _endowed_ , than his brother but hearing it from someone who had rather intimate knowledge of his brother’s anatomy was the best kind of bad-wrong ego boost. He leaned up and kissed along Rhys’ neck, moaning quietly against the other’s skin. Rhys gasped and writhed in Tim’s lap, clutching his brunet locks with his unoccupied hand.

“I’ll take care of you, Rhys.” Tim promised under his breath.

Rhys practically started crying again, letting go of Tim’s cock to cup both cheeks in his hands to kiss him deeply. After they kissed the breath out of one another, Tim helped Rhys out of the last of his clothes. He was beautiful and pale with bruises and bite marks littered over his hips and thighs. Tim’s eyes trailed down the V of Rhys’ hips, cheeks heating impossibly hotter. Rhys seemed to stiffen the longer Tim stayed silent.

“You’re beautiful,” Tim whispered, “Rhys… You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

Rhys covered his face in his hands, trying to fight back tears again. Tim reached between Rhys’ legs, rubbing his fingers along Rhys’ slit and paying special attention to his clit. The younger man gasped, throwing his head back as Tim touched him. A few muted swears fell from Tim’s mouth as he worked Rhys open with care. When the first finger slipped into Rhys’ wet heat, the addict moaned unabashedly.

The whole process was slow and tender, opening Rhys up little by little. Tim’s erection twitched against his stomach at each moan that escaped from the man above him. Rhys curled his fingers through Tim’s hair, rocking his hips down against his fingers. He keened when Tim’s thumb began circling his clit.

“Please, I’m so close,” Rhys warned. He pressed his chest to Tim’s and rocked down against the fingers inside of him.

Tim redoubled his efforts, circling Rhys’ clit and tapping a staccato rhythm against his g-spot. The addict in his lap clawed at Tim’s shoulders as his orgasm crashed down his spine. He sobbed and panted as the last of the after-shocks shuddered through him, going practically boneless for a few moments. He snuggled his face against Tim’s neck affectionately, nipping at his earlobe.

Tim felt the warm moisture against his shaft, opening his eyes (when had he closed them?) to see Rhys lifting himself up to position his entrance over the head of his cock. The young man shifted down, impaling himself with a breathless gasp. Tim cried out Rhys’ name as he threw his head back. The heat and warmth and _the tightness_ was enough to pull Tim right to the edge. Closing his eyes again, he curled his fingers through Rhys’ hair as he began to rock his hips up to meet Rhys’ grinding down.

“Oh my god… You, _fuck_ , you feel amazing inside me.” Rhys gasped, drunkenly kissing at Tim’s lips as he fucked himself down.

Tim tugged Rhys closer to press them chest to chest. “R-Rhys, I-oh shit-I’m so close… I want to feel you come again…”

Rhys whined, another orgasm had been building rapidly already but Tim’s words nearly kicked him over the edge. Reaching down to where they were joined, Rhys began rubbing his clit. It didn’t take more than a few thrusts to push Rhys into climax again. He threw his head back in a silent cry, spasming around Tim’s cock.

“Fuck, hell-Rhys, where do you want me come?” He asked tentatively.

Rhys whimpered, touching his forehead to Tim’s own. “You can come inside me… I-i want to feel you.”

The permission to something do so intimate (even in the situation they were already in) pulled Tim over the edge, his thrusts stuttering as he filled the other. He clutched Rhys to him as the both rode their respective aftershocks. The bartender kissed gently along Rhys’ bare shoulder. Rhys snuggled his face against Tim’s brunet locks with a blissed smile on his lips.

Rhys shivered and Tim helped the young man off his lap, lying him down on the couch. He promised Rhys he would right back and kissed him gently. It took a few moments to locate but Tim found wet-wipes and a blanket in one of the various cabinets on one side of the room. He returned to the other’s side, covering Rhys’ nude form, and settling down beside him.

Rhys shuffled close to place his head on Tim’s thigh and took one of the bartender’s hand in his own. He easily drifted off to sleep, at peace with Tim beside him. Tim let himself doze in a post-orgasmic haze one the younger man was taken care of. Neither of the men heard the sound of footsteps or noticed the door opening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve been a very bad boy, Rhysie.” He cooed, voice honeyed with the promise of pain just below the surface.  
> Rhys clawed at Jack’s wrists, whimpering pathetically. “J-Jack! P-please, I’m-I’m sorry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah... warning for abuse in this chapter. Jack is... Well I try to do canonical justice to him.  
> This turned out to be a lot harder to write than expected but it's out so I'm calling it a win.  
> Un-beta'd cause I'm impatient.

Tim really should have been less surprised than he was when felt hands enclose around his neck and drag him from where he was sitting. He gasped and clawed at the identical hands around his throat, not daring to open his eyes in the hopes that it was all just an extremely vivid nightmare. He knew, logically, that he wasn't fooling anyone (himself included) with that thought. Hearing Rhys behind him attempt to placate the man currently cutting off Tim's air supply only further forced Tim to face the reality that he had _royally_  fucked up.

With one final squeeze, Jack released his brother’s throat, letting him crumple and cough on the floor. “Go home, Tim,” he ordered.

“Jack I can explain.” Tim began after he caught his breath.

“Go **home,** Tim.”

The tone and venom left no room for argument for the younger twin. He casted one last glance to the young addict clinging to the blanket covering his nudity as if to apologize. Tim grabbed his shirt from where it had fallen on the floor before all but fleeing from the room. Once the bartender was gone, Jack leveled his cold gaze to the man still cowering on the sofa. With heavy, decisive steps, he descended upon Rhys. He grabbed him up, lifting him up with little difficulty.

“You’ve been a very bad boy, Rhysie.” He cooed, voice honeyed with the promise of pain just below the surface.

Rhys clawed at Jack’s wrists, whimpering pathetically. “J-Jack! P-please, I’m-I’m sorry!”

The dealer dropped Rhys, watching him collapse on the floor. Before he could get his bearings, Jack pressed his boot to Rhys’ chest, forcing him to stay down. His eyes were cold as he stared down at the addict. So many thoughts, so many emotions, ran through Jack’s mind as he looked at the young man before him. After a long moment, Jack stepped back and motioned for Rhys to sit up.

“On your knees cupcake.”

Rhys settled on his knees before the other, looking tentatively up at him. Jack ran his fingers through Rhys’ disheveled hair in an almost soothing gesture before fisting his fingers in the locks and jerking his head back. A keen of pain escaped Rhys’ lips, one hand coming up to try and dislodge Jack’s iron grip. Jack was unflappable in his grip, forcing Rhys’ head farther back.

“So, you can’t help but to be a little _slut_ can you, Rhysie?” Jack hissed, clicking his tongue dismissively.

Tears flowed from Rhys’ cheeks as he fought to wrench free from Jack’s grip. “J-Jack… Please, it… I wasn’t thinking!”

Jack smirked, “No, you weren’t, but it’s okay. You’re gonna make it up to me, aren’t you?”

Rhys nodded as much as physically possible. His need to placate Jack was all that filled Rhys’ mind. He reached out and placed his hands on Jack’s hips tentatively, parting his lips with a soft hiccuping breath. Jack grinned down, allowing his grip to lessen on Rhys’ chestnut locks. Licking his lips, Jack moved his unoccupied to his belt buckle. Rhys followed the movement with his eyes, heart pounding nervously in his chest.

“So, here’s how this is going to go down,” Jack began, “you're gonna use that cute little mouth of yours to suck my dick and if you do a good job, then daddy might forgive you.”

Rhys swallowed, moving his hands tentatively to move Jack's hand away from his pants front. His hands shook almost violently as he undid the dealer's belt and pant fastenings. Jack's cock was already filling with blood, twitching with interest at the feeling of Rhys' breath. Drawing the turgid flesh from the confines of Jack’s jeans, Rhys wrapped his lips around the head and closed his eyes.

“Ah-ta-ta … Eyes on me, kitten.” Jack reprimanded, hand flexing in Rhys’ hair threateningly.

Rhys looked up to catch Jack’s eyes, taking half of Jack’s cock into his mouth with a nervous swallow. Jack growled pleasantly, letting Rhys work for a moment before shifting his stance and force the entirety of his length down the boy’s throat. Rhys gagged, gripping Jack’s hips as his eyes watered. He didn’t attempt to stop the older man though, knowing that would only prolong his punishment. Taking a few shallow breaths through his nose, Rhys relaxed his throat as much as possible before letting his hands drop from Jack’s hips.

“That’s it… Mmm, yeah,” Jack praised, starting to thrust his hips lazily. He was sending a message to the boy between his legs.

A litany of small whines and keens punctuated the sloppy noises of Jack fucking Rhys’ throat. Rhys kept his eyes open as much as he possibly could, only closing them when the tears made it impossible to keep them open. Jack continued to use him like a cheap fuck sleeve, watching in nothing short of delight as he used his little junkie.

“You look good down there, Rhysie. Mm, yeah, you take my cock so fuckin’ good.” Jack snickered, pulling his cock so that only the head is left against Rhys’ mouth.

The chestnut haired man knew what came next. He opened his mouth dutifully and waited. Jack cackled and stroked himself. The first shots of cum landed directly on Rhys’ tongue. He smeared the last few drops on Rhys’ lips watching it dribble down his chin. Rhys closed his mouth and a show of swallowing before opening his mouth back up to show Jack.

“Good boy,” Jack smirked, patting Rhys’ cheek.

Rhys settled back and covered his nakedness absentmindedly. Jack patted Rhys’ head and smiled down at him. He straightened up his clothing and leaned down kissing the younger man with possessive growl. He winked and sauntered out of the office, leaving Rhys alone. After the junkie was sure Jack was back doing whatever in the bar, Rhys gathered himself up and redressed. It took a few minutes before he was able to leave the office, slipping from the bar without a word to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tentatively (i.e. until my muse decides to stop being fickle) there will be one more chapter that's fluff with Tim and Rhys but for now, this is a good stand alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, cliffhanger. I'm an asshole. I want to make sure this one is well received before I write/post the aftermath.  
> Anywho, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
